


Nothing's Gonna Hurt Me With My Eyes Shut

by nothandlingit



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothandlingit/pseuds/nothandlingit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His eyes remain closed and he remains safe. Because, while he is blind to the world around him, nothing can take her away. The reality of the situation has settled around him like dark cloud and he just can’t open his eyes to a world without her in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing's Gonna Hurt Me With My Eyes Shut

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this a little before the spoilers about little Emma came out, so this has nothing to do with how I think those scenes might play out. But who knows…?  
> Title from the Years and Years song, ‘Eyes Shut’.

_“Killian, it’s okay. You can come out.” The voice of his brother reaches him through the cracks in the wooden cabin door. He shakes his head, stifling his sobs even as tears continue to run down his cheeks._

_“No,” he calls back, his voice barely allowing him to get that one word out before he has to bite his lip to suppress the next wave of overwhelming emotion. “No, no, no,” he continues to whisper to himself, voice thick, flashes of the scene he’s hiding from replaying over and over in his mind._

  
_He hears Liam sigh before he slides down the wall to sit outside the door, leaning in so that his shadow creeps in through the cracks, “I’m scared too, brother. And I could really use you out here.”_

  
_The “no, no, no’s” become a mantra for Killian as he rocks back and forth, hugging his knees to his chest._

  
_Liam shifts outside the door, “It’s just you and me now.” Killian can tell he’s trying to sound strong but his voice is shaky, “We have to stick together.”_

  
No, no, no.

  
_No more pain._

  
_No more lies._

  
_No more people walking out._

  
_He simply won’t let them in._

  
_His eyes squeeze shut, focus shifting from Liam’s heavy breaths to the feel of his own heart beating in his chest, the sound of his shoes tapping against the wooden flooring. Anything but the image of the empty deck above their heads, the missing safety boat, the endless ocean and constant reminder that, eventually, everybody leaves. Even their own father._

  
_He closes his eyes and wishes for a different life and, as he finally drifts off to sleep, the sound of Liam’s quiet pleads lulling him into sleep, he dreams of a family he can count on._

* * *

  
  
Emma’s head throbs, her bones feel tired, her skin burns; everything is wrong. But it feels right. And that terrifies her.

  
She looks down at her hands, watches the way they shake for a moment, before clenching them in fists and pulling them close to her chest, refusing to acknowledge the weakness. She can feel the powerful magic rolling beneath her skin, so unlike her own magic which has always felt light and airy. This is heavy and filled with horrendous burden.  
It’s overwhelming in a way that makes her feel breathless and dizzy, her vision strangely blurred as though she’s seeing the world through a filter. She wonders if that’s a Dark One thing or if it’s just because she’s taken on an entire other being and maybe her senses are taking their time to catch up. In the next second she hears a rustle in the trees and whips her head around to see that the nearest tree line is off in the horizon and she knows that her senses are just fine. More than fine.

  
Taking a deep and steadying breath she closes her eyes and tries to process everything that’s just happened. From the swirling mass of black tendrils to the dagger, from the cool grip of the Dark One to the warmth of Killian’s touch. The darkness helps quiet the rushing thoughts in her mind and focus on each moment, a flashing montage of images spreading out like a map in her head. She can see the moment she had stepped into the darkness, as though watching from the outside, see the moment she had pushed her love away and plunged the dagger into the unknown.

  
And then what?

  
She opens her eyes and tries to see where she has ended up. There are woods in the distance, a village just beyond the rise of the hill before her and a castle beyond that. Despite the enormous power simmering in her fingertips, she feels helpless and lost; a child looking for her parents, a mother looking for her son, a woman looking for her partner. Here, she has no one, has no idea of how to get to a place where she can help herself. All she can sense is that she will do anything to fix it, which brings her back to feeling scared again.

  
This wasn’t a power she desired and she wonders is that is why it’s affecting her in such a confusing way. She still feels like herself, but selfish. Willing to do unthinkable things in order to get what she needs. And, right now, she needs to not be lost or confused or vulnerable. So she closes her eyes again, focuses on that last flash of light she’d had before she was consumed – the look she’d seen in Killian’s eyes, the desperation to drag her out of harm’s way – and wishes for him.

 

* * *

 

 _There is something to be said about the importance of routine in any child’s life – bed times and breakfast, baths and books. There should be time for play and time for rest and, for a while, Emma Swan had received this. Which is why, at three years old, she can tell that something is not right when her foster mother doesn’t pick her up from day care._  
_One of the carers sits with her on a bench while they wait, a hand wrapped around her own as they stare off into the horizon._

  
_When her foster father eventually arrives, he looks exhausted and Emma feels sick in her stomach like it’s her fault. She won’t understand for a long time that the feeling is her superpower at work._

  
_“Your mother is asleep,” he whispers as they walk through the door, indicating that Emma needs to be quiet. She nods her understanding, watching her foster father with wide eyes as he ducks his head into their bedroom as if to ensure what he’s saying is the truth. She follows him curiously, helping as he makes dinner for the two of them. It feels normal. It feels like it always has._

  
_Except instead of vegetables and meat, he lets her eat pancakes and ice cream._

  
_She giggles as he chases her up the stairs to the bath tub, plays in the bubbles like always, reaching up to put the foam on her foster father’s face like he’s Santa. And, when she lays down in bed that night and he reads from her favourite book of fairytales, she thinks that everything might be alright._

  
_When she wakes up in the morning and her foster mother looks at her with red rimmed eyes and apologies on her lips as she clutches at her stomach and mutters about babies, Emma realises that nothing is fine._

  
_Her first night in the group home is the worst. They have glowing star stickers on the walls and a night light in the room but she has never been afraid of the dark, so it only serves to keep her awake, keep her mind wondering where her parents are, if they’re ever coming back. Why would they leave her all alone?_

  
_She rolls over on her side and sees another girl in the bed across from hers. Her eyes are wide and unfocused. Emma wonders if anyone sleeps here. Why does nobody read to them or sing them lullabies? She doesn’t cry that first night, still doesn’t quite understand that this is permanent, that she won’t be going back to her family again._

  
_Instead she stares back at the girl in the bed next to hers until she, eventually, looks away. It’s only then that Emma sleeps._

  
_It’s a week later that the realisation hits her. The carers at the group home bring her a cake and she blows out the candles and everyone cheers for her turning four. But none of the faces surrounding her are the ones she wants to see. They had told her to make a wish, but it hadn’t come true. They take away the cake before she can try it again._

  
_She pulls the blankets up over her head as she cries that night, not wanting anybody to see her in the too bright room. Reaching under her pillow, she pulls out a star sticker that she stole from the wall earlier in the day. It doesn’t glow like the rest do, but she still stares at it for a moment before clutching it in her fist and holding it close to her chest._  
_Closing her eyes tight, she wishes for her parents and lets herself believe, for one night, that her wish might come true._

 

* * *

 

  
He’s been through his fair share of portals so he knows how they work. They stand on the edge of the swirling light and look to each other to ensure they all enter at once. They only have one shot of this and nobody wants it to go wrong.

  
He reaches out with his only hand to clutch Henry’s, giving the boy a reassuring look. He nods back and reaches out on the other side of him to hold onto Regina’s outstretched hand. Seeing the boy securely locked between himself and his mother, Killian takes a moment to tilt his head up to the heavens, trying to clear his mind before they take this leap of faith.

  
The stars shine bright above them and he wonders which world’s stars Emma is looking upon tonight. Taking a deep breath, he lets that thought permeate every path in his mind before closing his eyes and following the pull into the portal.

  
It flashes through his closed eyelids, patterns of blue and green and light and dark, sounds rumbling all around them as though they’re caught in the middle of a storm on the ocean.

  
Henry’s hand grips his tighter and he squeezes it back to let him know he is right beside him. His mind conjures images of the boy and his mother walking towards him on the docks and he focuses on that. Emma’s blonde hair blowing out behind her as the wind chills them, her arms folded across her chest as she asks him a favour. He thinks of all the moments since then, quiet dinners and loud adventures, her sweet lips and soft skin, whispered confessions and bold declarations.

  
He thinks of her and the stars and of nothing else.

And then it all stops.

He can hear laboured breathing all around him, can feel their stumbles in the stillness of everything else. But still his eyes remain closed, he remains safe. Because, while he is blind to the world around him, nothing can take her away. The reality of the situation settles around him like dark cloud and he _can’t_ open his eyes to a world without her in it.

Until he hears a breath that isn’t laboured, a gasp that is surprised and distinctly hers.

Only then does he allow himself to believe that it’s all going to be okay. Only then does he open his eyes.

* * *

 

She meets his gaze, her wish still bouncing around her mind.

She meets his gaze and smiles.


End file.
